Beast: Great Bloodlines Converge (32 page)

He was silent a moment, tracing a big finger down the soft side of her neck. “If it matters, no one has touched my heart or mind in such a way,” he said. “Men have urges that women do not. It is a force of nature and not of the heart. I have never had someone mean anything to me before, certainly not the way you are coming to mean something to me. For a wife I never wanted, now I cannot imagine my life without you.”

It was a sweet thing to say, a tender moment that touched her deeply. When his great head dipped down, his lips brushing against hers, there was nothing left to say. He had eased her, made her feel comfortable and wanted, and she realized that she was ready to give herself over to him because, come what may, she had already given her mind and possibly her heart over to him. Now, it was time to give her body over to him.

Bastian’s lips slanted over Gisella’s gently at first, acquainting her with his taste and touch, before growing more bold in his attention. His kisses become more forceful, his tongue licking her lips, begging for an invitation inside. When she didn’t understand what he needed, he showed her, listening to her gasp as his tongue invaded the sweet recesses of her mouth.

As he distracted her with sweet kisses, coaxing her awakening desire, he began to carefully remove her from her shift. Between the covers being over them and his rather forceful kisses on her lips, face, and neck, Gisella hardly realized when he slipped her shift off of her shoulders and pulled it down her body. She became aware only when she felt it slide off her buttocks. But the covers were still up around her so she didn’t feel exposed, and the feel of his hot flesh against hers was both curious and exciting. She didn’t fear it. In fact, she was interested enough to put her hands on his shoulders, feeling his warm flesh for the first time.

Bastian could hardly hold himself in check. He’d never been with a more desirable woman in his life and the feel of her, the scent of her, was intoxicating. He sucked her neck and her earlobe, gently, feeling her tremble beneath him, as his hands moved down her arms to her belly, stroking the soft flesh before moving to a full breast and gently cupping it.

Gisella gasped with surprise at someone other than herself touching her breast, but Bastian returned to her mouth, kissing her firmly as he pinched a tender nipple. It wasn’t long before Gisella settled down and enjoyed the attention as he kissed a blazing trail down her neck, onto her chest, and took a hard nipple into his mouth to suckle firmly.

Gisella gasped and squirmed with delight, utterly at the mercy of Bastian as he wedged himself between her legs, parting her thighs with his knees. At this point, all she could do was experience what he was doing to her, overwhelmed with it all, and his kisses moved from one breast to the other, tasting and touching, while his fingers moved to the warm, moist folds between her legs.

Her body was responding to him and she didn’t even realize it. All Gisella could focus on was the ecstasy he was creating within her. Her body, young and nubile, knew what it needed even if her mind did not. With his big body covering hers, Bastian brought up her knees and carefully mounted her.

The first thrust brought a sting but Gisella didn’t utter a sound. Her eyes were closed and her back arched, and Bastian thrust again, feeling her tight, wet body draw him in. It was more than he could have ever dreamed of, more beauty and lust than he could have ever comprehended, and he began to thrust into her, loosening her body up to receive him, showing her how it felt for a husband to join with a wife. No fear, no pain, only genuine desire and joy.

Beneath him, Gisella’s hands latched on to his forearms as he braced himself and he felt such arousal in those small fingers clutching him. He watched her as he made love to her, slightly elevated from her body now, and it was too much for him to take. Her perfection, her full breasts jarring every time his pelvis bumped against hers, drove him over the edge and he spilled himself deep inside her.

But he wasn’t finished and he certainly wanted her to feel what he had experienced, so he stroked her wet folds with his fingers as he continued to thrust into her, feeling her release mere seconds later. She had been so highly aroused that it hadn’t taken much at all. Her body convulsed and the sounds of her frenzied gasping filled the air as Bastian eased her down off of her first release, his mouth eventually fusing with hers, kissing her with all of the emotion he was starting to feel. And he realized, as he kissed her, that he was feeling more for her than he had originally suspected. There was something about her that was burrowing deep inside him, heading straight for his heart.

But the kisses softened and eventually faded away, and Bastian withdrew himself from her and pulled her against him, holding her close. The experience of their first coupling had gone better than he had dreamed possible, as if she was made for him and he for her, and they had accepted each other without trouble.

As he lay there, staring at the fire over the top of her dark head, a rather loud and rattling snore filled the room. Since it wasn’t him, he could only assume it was his delicate new wife, and he broke out in soft laughter, giggling harder when she snorted in her sleep. It was laughter of pure joy, for he was coming to feel quite inferior around her, thinking she was a perfect angel. The snoring, at least, made her more human.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t get much sleep that night, but he hardly cared. As far as he was concerned, he had found paradise.

“I thought this wasn’t a military fortress,” Sparrow said, peering through the window of Braidwood’s reception room and out into the courtyard beyond. “There are hundreds of soldiers out there.”

Pale with angst, Gisella stood beside her friend, watching her husband and his knights organize a large collection of new troops that had arrived over the past hour. It was nearing the nooning hour but troops arriving in the courtyard had been going on since before dawn. There were knights in armor, too, several of them, and Gisella watched with mounting distress as an army was assembled before her eyes.

“This is my fault,” she hissed quietly. “Had I not struck Thomas, none of this would be happening. Men are going to die because of what I did.”

Sparrow knew the entire story, mostly through Gisella’s rather disjointed tale that morning when they converged on the kitchen for the morning meal. By that time, all of the knights save Braxton had been out in the courtyard, so breakfast was a small meal shared by Gisella, Braxton, Sparrow, the king’s physician, and the king.

Henry, in fact, didn’t seem too upset given what was going on around him. He had expected to be taken back to the Tower this morning but that trip seemed to have been delayed. More to the point, he seemed rather happy about it and ate nearly everything that was put before him – eggs with cream and cheese, several hunks of warm bread and butter, and strips of pork that had been fried crispy. He stuck close to Braxton and seemed quite at ease with the man, and even managed to start a conversation with Gisella about his desire for a lovely prayer book. She responded politely, speaking of a beautiful Italian prayer book that Lady Gloucester had, something that interested Henry greatly. But throughout the conversation, Gisella’s thoughts and mind were with her husband in the courtyard. She simply couldn’t shake the sense of dread.

They moved out to the big reception room after the morning meal was finished and Sparrow sat with Henry, teaching him how to play a game called Bone Ace from a deck of beautifully painted cards that had once belonged to Aderyn de Russe. It was a numbers game and Henry was good with numbers, so he quickly ended up beating Sparrow several hands whereupon she turned the game over to Braxton, who played gleefully against the boy who was trying very hard to beat him. This left the old physician hovering behind his young charge, watching the game, as Gisella and Sparrow watched the courtyard, worrying over what was to come.

“It is not your fault,” Sparrow said, sympathetic. “I would have done the same thing. What a nasty man to say such terrible things about your husband.”

Gisella could see her brother speaking with Bastian and another knight she recognized. Sir Andrew Wellesbourne was in their midst, having come with the other troops that morning. He was dressed for battle, and Gisella was nearly sick with what was transpiring. Her husband was obviously building an army in that small, manicured courtyard.

“I am going outside,” Gisella said when she could stand it no longer. “I must speak with Bastian.”

Sparrow held on to her, refusing to let her go. “You must not,” she said. “Nothing you can say to him will change his mind, will it?”

Gisella’s featured twisted into a pout. “I must try,” she insisted. “I cannot let men die because I slapped a ridiculous young lord. It is not worth men’s lives.”

Sparrow didn’t let go of her but she could see how upset her friend was. She wasn’t particularly surprised. Gisella and Bastian had spent a good deal of time together as of late and Sparrow could only go on the assumption that something good was blossoming between them. Certainly, Gisella wouldn’t be so distressed if she didn’t feel something for the man she married which was surprising given their rocky start. Still, it was wholly wonderful because Gisella deserved such happiness. She stopped gripping Gisella’s arm and looped her hand through her friend’s elbow.

“Walk with me,” she said softly.

Gisella followed simply because she was told to. It was better than standing around, worrying. Unhappy, she let Sparrow lead her out of the reception room and into the entry hall. Sparrow tried to take her into the big room with the Roman tiles on the floor but Gisella pulled towards the front door and Sparrow relented, following her out into the warm day.

The sun was out overhead and the humidity from the river was stronger here than in the house. There was the house in its “U” shape, a pebble path leading from it, through the gardens, and then to the drive and wide courtyard area where the soldiers were gathering. Gisella was practically towing Sparrow towards the courtyard but Sparrow convinced her to wander through the garden a bit and admire some of the lovely flowers. From their position in the garden, they could see the activity with the troops more clearly and Gisella seemed to calm somewhat. As long as she was close to the action and could see Bastian, her mood was better. Coming upon a carved stone bench, Sparrow forced Gisella to sit down beside her.

“Now,” Sparrow said quietly. “Tell me what is going on with you and Sir Bastian. Honestly, Gigi, you are acting like a woman in love. I have never seen you so distraught over a man.”

Gisella looked at her friend sharply. “In love?” she repeated, shocked, but just as quickly, the idea settled with her. She mulled it over. Then she turned to look at Bastian as he mingled with his knights, a head taller than the rest of them, and her heart swelled enormously. “I... I am not entirely sure if I am in love with him, but I certainly care for him. He is kind and quite wonderful.”

Sparrow’s gaze lingered on Bastian, too. “Then what is not to love about him?” she asked, her gaze moving to Gannon and wondering if someday she would love someone, too. “I can see a change in you, my friend. I think you have fallen in love with your husband.”

Gisella wasn’t startled by the idea the second time. Her gaze stayed on Bastian and she began to reflect on their relationship in just these few short days. After a moment, she sighed. “It seems like a lifetime ago that we met,” she murmured. “Was it really only a few days ago? That is so difficult to imagine. I feel as if I have been around him my entire life.”

Sparrow grinned, holding her hand. “I am so happy for you,” she said, giving her a hug. “After your terrible beginning with him, I was not entirely sure you would even like him. It seems that you do.”

Gisella looked at Sparrow and, seeing her grin, began to laugh. “I do,” she agreed, joy in her heart that she couldn’t begin to describe. “I do very much.”

Sparrow nodded. “I can tell,” she said. “But you must now do what all wives of great warriors do – you must let him do what he must do. You cannot stop him, Gigi. If you try, you will only make yourself miserable. You have seen enough knights and warriors to know this.”

Gisella’s smile faded, thinking of Bastian going to war against Suffolk because of her. It was enough to make her feel sick again. As she sat there with Sparrow and worried, Bastian and Sir Andrew headed in her direction. She watched them approach, her heart beating wildly at the sight of Bastian, swelling with joy. Perhaps Sparrow was right. Perhaps she
was
in love with him. She couldn’t explain her feelings any other way.

“Lady de Russe,” Bastian greeted her with a smile on his lips. “It is agreeable to see you out here. Are you sure it is not too hot in the sun for you?”

Gisella smiled up at him, focused on him as if he were the only person in the entire world. “Nay,” she said. “It is a lovely day. We were just sitting here and enjoying the garden.”

She made it sound quite innocent and Sparrow cast her a somewhat disbelieving look, but Gisella ignored her. Bastian, however, didn’t see Sparrow’s expression. Much like his wife, he seemed to be singularly focused, only upon her.

“The river makes it a bit sticky, but it is not too terrible,” he said. Then, he indicated Andrew, standing to his right. “My lady, you remember Andrew Wellesbourne, of course.”

Gisella nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Welcome to Braidwood, Sir Andrew.”

Andrew was without his helm this morning and displaying a full head of curly blond hair. He nodded politely to Gisella’s statement.

“Thank you, Lady de Russe,” he said. “I only wish the circumstances were happier.”

Gisella’s smile faded somewhat. “As do I,” she said. “You brought more men with you, I see.”

Andrew nodded, glancing at Bastian to make sure the man approved of him commenting on such a thing. Bastian didn’t seem opposed to it so Andrew continued.

“I did, my lady,” he said. “May I be honest and say that Bastian told me what happened with Thomas de la Pole. The man shall be punished for what he did. It is inexcusable.”

Gisella nodded. Then, she simply turned and walked away. She was afraid if she remained and there was more discussion about the impending military action, she might break down and she did not want to do that in front of Andrew. She was already dangerously brittle this morning, emotions she had never experienced before swamping her. She had never had to deal with having someone she adored heading off to battle. Aye, she adored him. To think of something happening to Bastian brought tears to her eyes and as she headed into the kitchen, to the rear of the gardens, someone grasped her gently by the arm.

“Wait,” Bastian said softly. “Where are you going?”

Gisella shook her head. Then, the tears came, tears she had been trying very hard to stave off.

“I… I am going into the kitchen,” she said tightly. “Mayhap your knights would like some refreshment. I was going to see to it.”

Bastian looked at her lowered head, seeing the tears streaming down her cheeks no matter how swiftly she tried to wipe them away, and his heart ached. It had never ached for anyone the way it was aching for her.

“Gigi,” he said softly. “Sweetheart, I know this may seem overwhelming to you, but you understand why I am doing this. You understand that I must.”

She nodded, wiping quickly at her nose. “I know,” she said, not oblivious to the fact that he had called her by a tender pet name. “I know that you are doing what you feel is right and I am sorry that I am not supportive of your call to arms. I will do better, I promise.”

She turned away from him, heading into the kitchen again, but he stopped her, this time with both hands. He pulled her into an embrace, feeling her instantly cling to him, holding on to him tightly. Her reaction nearly broke his heart.

“I do not want you to do better,” he whispered. “I have never had anyone feel so strongly about my leaving for battle. But I want you to understand that I will not go to arms unless it is absolutely necessary. The men you see here today are men that will go with me to Wallingford Castle as a show of force. I want Suffolk to see that I am quite serious about him turning his brother over to me and a show of force is part of that presentation. Does that make sense?”

She nodded, pulling gently from his embrace so that she could wipe at the tears on her face. “It does,” she said. “But I still do not like it. If Suffolk does not agree to your demand, these men will go to battle all because of a slap. Men should not die because of a slap, Bastian.”

He watched her as she struggled to quiet her tears. “Then you do not believe my honor is worth the price?”

She looked at him. “I understand that you feel your honor is at stake because another man struck your wife,” she said. “But the reality is that it was simply not that serious of an offense. Not serious enough for you to threaten Suffolk with all-out war if he does not surrender his brother to you. Have you suffered through so much battle and so much turmoil that you do not understand that, sometimes, lesser situations like this can be settled more easily with a negotiation? Not everything requires a call to arms, Bastian.”

He started at her, mulling over her words, thinking she made a good deal of sense. Was it possible that he was so used to drawing a sword that he knew of no other way, no matter what the circumstances? He sighed heavily, now somewhat torn by both his motives and his natural resolution to a crisis. Maybe Gisella was correct but the fact remained that his behavior was innate. He considered his actions the only real solution to the issue.

“Mayhap not,” he agreed quietly. “But in this case, I feel this is the only possible option. De la Pole must be met with force or I fear I will never know satisfaction against the man who struck you. I am sorry if you do not understand my mind.”

Gisella wiped at the last bit of moisture around her eyes. “I am as well,” she said. “We have known each other such a short time, Bastian. With time, we will come to understand one another better but right now, I do not understand you. I am afraid for you. And that makes me sad.”

Bastian didn’t know what else to do other than lean forward and kiss her on the top of the head. “I do not want to be the cause of your sadness,” he said. “But I must do this. Even if you do not understand, I would at least hope you would support my decision.”

Gisella sighed faintly. “You are my husband,” she said. “I support whatever you do. It does not mean I have to like it.”

Bastian wasn’t sure what more to say to that so he reached out and took her hand, tucking it into the crook of his elbow. “Come with me as I finish going about my duties,” he said. “Mayhap if you understand more about what it is I am doing, you will not be so afraid.”

Gisella wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth but she followed him nonetheless, walking by his side as he returned to Andrew and then the three of them headed back to the collection of knights who were going over the final details for the march on Wallingford.